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Month: February 2015

I’m working Coterie this week in New York City, which is basically just a ginormous fashion trade show. It is awful. My days start at 6am and don’t end until I get home after 8pm. It’s only a four-day gig, but I have already contemplated faking the flu and ending my internship work a day early. Today I was instructed to “be cuter” and “smile more”. I’LL SMILE IF I’M HAPPY, DAMMIT. I am seriously one demand away from a mental breakdown. More to come – that is, if I don’t end up in therapy by then.

I traveled to Newport, RI for the long weekend and woah! what a beautiful and cozy place to be this time of year.

Due to the everlasting snowfall Boston has received these past few weeks, everything from classes to the trains have been cancelled and shut down. So now what? I lounge around in my heart-covered boxers all day, enjoy the beautiful snowfall outside my first story window, while cuddled up in my fluffy blanket with a cup of my favorite tea and a great book– right? Nope – WRONG – not even close. First of all the snow has turned into giant ten foot mountains on every street corner and slushy brown puddles that have absolutely ruined every pair of shoes I own. Second, it seems as if as soon as the snow decided to bring everything in the Boston area to a halt, my life decided it wanted to move faster than ever – so fast that I am now struggling to keep up. The T (Boston’s version of the Subway) is shut down, but that’s too bad because Sam still needs to get places. The school decides to cancel classes, but that’s too bad because Professors still want to assign work. The city doesn’t want to clear the sidewalks, but that’s too bad because Sam still needs to walk to the train station. These past few weeks have been a s-t-r-u-g-g-l-e, but then again, these past few weeks have also been and continue to be i-n-c-r-e-d-i-b-l-e. These are two highly contradicting feelings and my only way to react is through extreme contradicting emotion. One minute I’m smiling, the next minute I’m frowning. One minute I’m laughing, the next minute I’m crying. One minute I’m excited, the next minute I’m panicking. It’s been a rollercoaster of emotions these past few weeks, my friends, and something tells me the end is nowhere near in sight.

Though I must say, and this could very well just be me desperately attempting to maintain my optimism, but I have a strange feeling that this’ll all be worth it.

Samantha

P.S. I’ll be in NYC (yay!) all of next week working COTERIE – very VERY excited. BUT let’s hope I make it there, as the T is STILL shut down from the past snowfall. (Honestly, I’ll walk from Boston to NYC if I have to – dammit!)

The coffee chain doesn’t officially start serving coconut milk until tomorrow, but if you know how to charm your barista like I do you’ll be able to get an exclusive taste 24 hours early. Which I HIGHLY recommend you do because it is deeeelicious!

That is all. Cheers!

Samantha

P.S. Apologies for my sad eyes that totally misrepresent my enthusiasm on this historical day. I’M SO EXCITED I SWEAR.

Because I have a paper due in a few hours that I haven’t even started yet.

I feel like I’ve been on this earth long enough to have dealt with a wide variety of human beings. I’ve been friends, acquaintances, and interacted with the nicest people in the world and the worst. Today I am choosing to tell you about the worst kind of people, because nice people, as wonderful as they are, simply do not make for a great story/life lesson.

Drawing by Me

I was friends with a person in high school (no names will be used for the sake of their dignity and my safety) who was what I believed to be the “best” kind of person. Though to my disappointment, and surprise at the time, this person turned out to in fact be the shittiest kind of person. This person’s awfulness was not due to the fact that they weren’t there for me as a friend or even the fact that they took too much and gave to little. No – the reason this friend-turned-faux was the shittiest type of person was simply because prior to deciding they no longer wanted to be friends with a “basic bitch” like me, they led me to believe that our friendship and their genuineness would last forever. The worst type of people in this world are the deceitful ones, the ones who in a matter of seconds go from your best friend to your worst enemy with no explanation as to why. Perhaps what makes me the most angry about this situation and others like it, is not because I was friends with a shitty person, but because that shitty person denied their shittiness. If you’re not a nice person then I suggest you own it, don’t go twinkling around convincing people you’re not awful. OWN YOUR SHITTY PERSONALITY. BE A SHITTY PERSON. But don’t pretend to be someone you’re not, because then you’re not just a shitty person, but a phony person too.

Holden, of The Catcher in the Rye, says it best:

“One of the biggest reasons I left Elkton Hills was because I was surrounded by phonies. That’s all. They were coming in the goddam window. For instance, they had this headmaster, Mr. Haas, that was the phoniest bastard I ever met in my life… I mean if a boy’s mother was sort of fat or corny-looking or something, and if somebody’s father was one of those guys that wear those suits with very big shoulders and corny black-and-white shoes, then old Haas would just shake hands with them and give them a phony smile and then he’d go talk, for maybe a half an hour, with somebody else’s parents. I can’t stand that stuff. It drives me crazy. It makes me so depressed I go crazy. I hated that goddam Elkton Hills.”

I’m not quite sure how to say this, but it’s almost like Holden and I live in two parallel worlds – except “Elkton Hills” is my hometown. I don’t think I’ve felt this connected to another person before in my life, and it’s a damn character in a book. Wow, that’s really sad, I think it’s time for me to go write that paper now.

So here I am, shopping bags in one hand and a single-pump cinnamon dolce latte in the other – but don’t call me a “white girl”.

Reasons why I am a stereotype:

I say dumb things like “There’s no such thing as too much tequila.” (sad, but true story).

I treat Starbucks like it’s a drug.

I flip my hair every three seconds.

I find happiness in spending money (especially when it comes to sales).

And I wear heels even when there’s two feet of snow on the ground.

Reasons why I am not a stereotype:

I am incredibly opinionated.

I have lots and lots of goals for myself and my career.

I am constantly eating and/or thinking about food.

I thrive in diverse settings.

And my iTunes library is absolutely nothing like you would imagine it to be.

Stereotypes can be fun to joke and laugh about at times, but what’s not fun about a stereotype is when someone doesn’t want to interact with you based on the person they think you are. It is to those people that I’d like to say – get to know someone (aka this white girl!) before you judge them to be “boring” or “annoying” based on the stereotype you’ve subconsciously given them. The stereotypical aspects about me (identified above) are true, but every other “white girl” stereotype you have in your head go ahead and delete them now because that is not who I am. And I know I speak for a lot of people in discussing such a sensitive topic – specifically those of you who have been handed a stereotype by your peers based on an ignorant perception and opinion made of you. So in some ways, yes, we all belong to a stereotype – but in many other ways we do not.